


Choking on Laughter

by madamguillotine



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Doctor Joly, F/M, First Meetings, Grantaire is a good friend, M/M, Overworking, joly is bad at rest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23170777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamguillotine/pseuds/madamguillotine
Summary: Good friends and the Heimlich Manoeuvre, what more could anyone need?
Relationships: Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Grantaire & Joly, Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta
Kudos: 2





	Choking on Laughter

Prompt: _You laughed in a restaurant but you have an ugly laugh and I thought you were choking, so I spent three minutes awkwardly humping you by doing the Heimlich Maneuver_

Joly yawned. It was just two and a half weeks to the biggest test he'd ever taken in his academic career. He launched himself head-long into studying; shutting himself off from everyone he knew and even some people he didn't. He'd walk to class muttering to himself about what muscles he was using to walk, ignoring those around him. When he'd pause for meals he would recite the parts of the digestive track.

At this time, knowing the date of the test and knowing Joly's tendencies to over-exert himself to the point of obsession. Grantaire had been trying for days to reach who he calls the “Concrete Slab of Medical Knowledge” to no avail. Fearing he'd work himself into a mental breakdown, he used his key to get into Joly's small apartment. When he pushed open the door, his eyes bugged out. There was so many diagrams, charts, and notes taped up that he couldn't see the walls underneath. Every surface had at least one dirty dish on it.

He knocked on Joly's bedroom door. There was a surprised noise on the other side of the door, he pushed open the door.

“Joly?”

Joly turned in his desk chair with a confused look on his face.

“Grantaire? What are you doing here?”

“I _was_ gonna check on you. I'm now here to take you out of... what ever you have going on here. Get dressed and we'll get some take out,” he shut the door, respectfully. “Make it something nice. I know the just place to take us.” he called to him.

Grantaire and Joly were seated near to a couple that Joly couldn't help but check out on the way by. Her curly hair and big brown eyes, but, oh, his smile, with the dimples that form in each cheek when he laughs. When himself and Grantaire were seated, he made sure to select the side he could watch them in his periphery.

“And if you talk about medicine or anatomy or anything like that during our meal, you're picking up the bill. Deal? It's for you to relax before you throw yourself back into your books. Because you of all people should know, you have to rest.”

Joly began to speak, but there was a noise from not too far off and he snapped his head in the direction of it. He saw the man with the dimples with his head thrown back and slapping his leg. Joly watched for just a second before announcing,

“That man is choking!”

Joly burst up and raced to the other table. He began the Heimlich which only made the man with the dimples laugh harder.

“Stop! He's okay!” the girl with the eyes said between peals of laughter. Joly slowly let go, nervous under all the eyes that were now on him. The girl only smiled and added, “His laugh always sounds like there's something wrong with him. Now that you two are as acquainted as you can get with clothes on, you and your boyfriend better join us!”

“Oh, we're not dating,”

“Do you wanna be?” she winked.

“Oh. No. He's my oldest friend,” he said, waving his hands in a defensive, placating motion. Grantaire came over to the table.

“I'm Grantaire” he reached out a hand.

“Bossuet Lesgle,” said Bossuet, taking it.

“How apt.”

“And I'm Musichetta!”

Joly waved as he said down, “Joly.”

They talked among themselves and found it was speaking with old friends, and by the time it came time to leave, they had spoke too much, laughed too much, ate too much and had the kind of evening that can only be experienced with good friends who've had too much of everything. Joly left with both their numbers written on his arm and a promise to call them the next day.


End file.
